Excerpt from page 98: The bronze statue of the satyr was something she and Inga had laughed over as they sometimes passed the secluded spot where it stood on their way to Patricia's daily punishment. The statue had been placed where it was by some long dead member of the family, which had owned Hastings Castle for centuries. As they surveyed it now, the girl whose hands were tied behind her back realized something had been added, something, which Patricia had no doubt was contrived for her alone. She shuddered for the bronze image was an intimidating thing for any female to behold. It was life sized and boasted a magnificent phallus in full erection thrusting forward aggressively. The heavy but short length of chain and daunting iron collar, which hung from the base of the penis giving Patricia a good idea what was in store. The phallus itself had been cleaned and polished. "I expect you can figure out how you are going to spend the day darling," Inga said briskly. "Kneel down and be a good girl."